Not as They Seem
by ncfan
Summary: On her wedding night, Hisana is thankful for the times her husband doesn't ask. Byakuya x Hisana.


**Characters**: Hisana, Byakuya  
**Summary**: On her wedding night, Hisana is thankful for the times her husband _doesn't_ ask.  
**Pairings**: Byakuya x Hisana  
**Warnings/Spoilers**: Spoilers for Soul Society arc; rated for mentions of sex  
**Timeline**: Pre-manga  
**Author's Note**: Just a small, depressing slice of the married life of Byakuya and Hisana. And, just as an added note, it's really crazy, and really sad sometimes, the stuff we'll do to survive, isn't it? Finally, the song quote below, in italics? Go listen to it, preferably while reading this. If the story doesn't have enough of a sense of urgency by itself, it will once you've listened to the song.  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own Bleach.

* * *

_Things are not always  
Things are not always how they seem  
Will you be ready?  
Will you be ready?_

_—2-1 _by Imogen Heap

* * *

The moment has passed, and Hisana feels not relief, but only dread. She lies on her side, staring at the walls, listening to Byakuya—her husband of all of eight hours—breathe softly in sleep beside her, plainly untroubled, unknowing of the turmoil going through her mind and setting fire to her frail bones.

She can't look at him. She can not bring herself to look at him, clutching at her pounding heart and just barely holding back hot, burning tears of dread from leaking from her eyes and on to the soft linen sheets her head is nestled on.

In the morning, when sunlight pours through the tall window at the back of their shared bedroom, there will be no blood on the sheets below them. Hisana is almost sick with fear as to what will happen when Byakuya discovers why his wife, though pale and nervous and barely responsive as she laid under him, was not inexperienced when she came to him on their wedding night.

Hisana grips the bed sheets in one taut, white hand, gritting her teeth to keep sickened cries from escaping her mouth. The things she did to survive in Rukongai are things that should never have to be brought to the light of day, things she never wants to remember. Her wedding night is different than she thought it would be—_he _is different than she thought he would be—but somehow, the fear she felt every single time in Rukongai comes back to her, heightened beyond everything Hisana imagined possible.

And the things that she never wanted to do and never wanted to remember, will be pulled out for all to see now, with those wrinkled, crumpled, _bloodless_ bed sheets as the banners of every experience that will ever haunt Hisana and dog her steps to her dying day.

She can remember every accusation brought to bear about her. Every bit of grime ever smeared on her by her husband's relatives who opposed the marriage of the young clan head of the Kuchiki to a nameless peasant from Rukongai. Every bit of dirt that had ever been cast to sully Hisana's name, her reputation. And just as vividly, Hisana can remember Byakuya's firm, at times even vehement defense of her.

He didn't care, he said. The past was the past, he said, and ought not to be used as a weapon against her, because wasn't all the social statuses of man simply accidents of birth? Born to different mothers, their situations could have been completely reversed, and as such, Hisana's status as a peasant of one of the most destitute, lawless districts of Rukongai should mean nothing.

But now… Here is something tangible to justify every charge ever brought against her by her in-laws; here is something to underline every single time they have ever called her worthless. Here is something to prove that she is just as contemptible as they have alleged.

And Byakuya. He has excused Hisana's past, but there is no justification for this. Will he be so forgiving of what he finds when the morning comes, what he must surely suspect now? What will he say, when he finds proof that his wife came to him "damaged", that his were not the first hands to touch her?

Hisana screws her eyes shut, face contorting in pain, and all the while, Byakuya suspects nothing, can not feel her smoldering away into ash beside him. _God_, what has she exposed him to? What happens if she is the carrier of some illness, and has passed it on to him? Though Hisana is for the most part incapable of expressing it—_Rukongai has taken everything from her, her happiness, her purity, and most devastatingly, her ability to give love the way she ought to be able to; he has given it all on this night, without reserve, and she can not even do the same for him, even though it is the only thing that she could possibly give him_—she does love Byakuya, and can't stand the thoughts that pass through her mind now.

What will he do?

There is no excuse for the wife of a clan head to come to her husband corrupted. Byakuya _can not_ overlook this. She has shamed him, and his whole clan, and will have to be dealt with. Even if he does not personally want to, the influential members of the Kuchiki clan will press and press until there will be no choice for Byakuya except to act. At best, Hisana can expect to be put away; at worst, possibly killed, though she prays that she knows Byakuya well enough to believe that he would not do _that_ to her.

When he casts her off, how can she expect it to happen? Will he make a public spectacle out of it, in hurt and anger making it plain to all, repudiating and shaming Hisana in public? Or will he be kinder, and put her away privately, with some dignity, perhaps still bearing some affection for her, but knowing that he can not keep her?

It's not the thought of being flung back into Rukongai that is of utmost distress to Hisana. She has always been able to find ways to survive, though they at times be shameful and endangering to her health and her very life. Hisana found ways to survive before being accepted into the Kuchiki household, and if she has to, she will find ways to survive after being cast out. There is no doubt about that. Hisana finds herself, in this very moment, resigning herself to a life of again wandering Rukongai, trying desperately to find her daily peace.

Instead, it is the thought of rejection that gnaws at her insides. What makes Hisana cringe and want to weep with pain and fear is the thought of _him_ rejecting her, of him turning away from her and refusing to look at her again, that fills her with dread. She can not love, even with inhibition and limitation, without looking forward to with dread a life without that love in her life.

Hisana turns and stares intently at the slackened face of her husband, as he still doesn't wake, ignorant of chaos brewing a maelstrom in the very same room as him. She bites her lip and, in a rare act of impulse that has not ever characterized her life and will not characterize her life in future, bends over and kisses his cheek. Byakuya doesn't do so much as stir—_He is such a deep sleeper, _she thinks, in heart-rent affection.

Then, Hisana lies back down, and prays for the night to never end, and for the sun to never shine on her iniquity.

_But eventually, morning does come, as all mornings must._

_Hisana doesn't dare look at her husband, doesn't dare meet her eyes. It feels as the whole world is holding its breath as she can practically feel Byakuya meeting the sight of still-white linen sheets, staring intently at them, and putting two and two together._

_She waits with dread for the questions, the accusations, the anger in his voice, the hurt in his voice._

_No words ever come._

_Hisana can feel a hand come down and gently squeeze her shoulder, never looking up, and feel her husband's lips against her hair, before Byakuya leaves the room, silent and accepting._

_She waits until he is gone, until she is sure that Byakuya won't be able to hear her._

_And then, only then, Hisana breaks down, sobbing, sliding against the wall and hiding her face in her hands, not out of fear, but out of relief._


End file.
